“You risked a lot,” Adamo said. I shrugged, stepping closer to him. “Can you give me fire?” I put the cigarette in my mouth. Adamo leaned closer with the lighter, one of his hands protecting the flame from the breeze. Out of habit, because I always did it with Dima, I guided his hand with mine so the flame touched the tip of my cigarette. His hand was hot and strong beneath my palm. His eyes met mine and for a moment we were both frozen in the moment, in the realization of our sudden closeness. The second my tip kindled, I withdrew from Adamo and took a deep drag.
